The Heir of Night

19

"Goodnight!" Feyre called from behind them. Theia opened her mouth but Nyx beat her to it.

"Goodnight," he grumbled. Theia stayed silent as he dragged her along, somehow keeping her upright. He cursed under his breath when she tripped over her feet and his frustration elicited a small laugh from Theia. He looked over his shoulder in shock, his brows pressed together.

"What?" She challenged, raising her own brow. Cauldron, the dress was too heavy. She felt like she'd fall on her face if he walked too fast.

"You laughed," he shrugged, looking back forward as he stumbled his own way up the staircase. This had Theia focusing, taking each step carefully. Perhaps too carefully, because Nyx groaned and stomped his foot in impatience.

"Sorry," she murmured, lifting her dress to take the final step. Theia yelped when Nyx tugged her too harshly and she dropped the wine glass still in her fingers.

"Damn it," he snapped. Theia gulped, pulling her arm from his hand to take a step back from the shattered glass. Her palm flattened against the wall to steady herself, eyes wide at the broken wine glass.

"Sorry," she repeated. Nyx's jaw shifted, eyes falling closed as he tried to contain himself. Theia glanced up to watch his chest fall in a heavy sigh and then he stepped toward her. Her mind didn't work quick enough to realize what he was doing, and as she heard the glass crunch beneath his boots, Theia found herself being lifted into his arms.

"Put me down," she slurred, pulling her arm from his neck. It had gone over his shoulders mindlessly; Theia didn't remember when she had even grabbed onto him. Nyx just grunted in response, his own steps uneven as he maneuvered around the glass and down the corridor. Her eyes blinked continuously without her effort and the sensation made her giggle.

"How much did you have to drink?" Nyx asked, his own words slurring as he stumbled against the door. Theia grasped the back of his neck again when one of his hands disappeared from her body to open her bedroom door.

"How much did you?" Theia countered, smacking her dry lips together. Nyx rolled his eyes and carried her into the room. Theia laughed loudly when her rear hit the bed and she bounced, hands flying out to catch herself. Nyx stood in front of her with his arms crossed, eyes lowered onto her. Even in her own intoxicated mind, she saw how he swayed. She bit down on her lip in an attempt not to laugh.

"You're infuriating," Nyx grumbled, grasping at the post of the bed. Theia watched his hand curl around the wood, gaze trailing up the arm of his tight button shirt. He had lost his jacket at some point in the night. With a slow blink, she chose to study his face. His scruffy jaw was set tight, his lips pursed. Theia grinned as she saw the familiar crease between his dark brows. It deepened at her smile.

"Your insufferable," Theia responded, leaning back on her hands and lazily dropping her head to the side. Nyx copied her motion. His eyes squinted as though he was analyzing her; warrior through and through. Theia licked her lips, her thoughts clouding her tongue too quickly to stop them. "I don't think I like you."

Nyx blinked, his own lips quirking at the side. "You don't? That doesn't shock me, you argue with me every moment of the day." His words fell together into a string; the alcohol he had drank throughout the night stopping him from clearly speaking. Theia shook her head as she tucked her legs beneath her, sitting on her knees. Nyx shifted on his feet and leaned more fully against the post of the bed.

"I told your mother today that I thought we could be friends. I don't see that happening. I can't wait to get out of your house," Theia spoke, tipping forward. Her hands reached out to catch herself, unfortunately landing on Nyx's abdomen. He made no move away from her, rather stared down with a raised brow and a sloppy smile.

"I can't wait for you to leave, either. I thought I was doing something honorable by helping you after you ripped my head off about my father, but now I want my own head torn off." He spoke as though his tongue was too large for his mouth and Theia laughed at the sound. Surely, her own actions were just as messy as his. She had never been drunk before tonight, and now that her mind was clear of self deprecating thoughts, she enjoyed the sensations.

"I'll do the honors. It'd be nice to live in a world without your scolding," Theia murmured, her fists tightening on his shirt. Nyx swallowed, eyes trailing over her face. Theia couldn't help the lazy smile climbing onto her lips, nor the way her nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. She'd been wanting to hurt him for weeks now and this was the closest she'd been to him in all that time.

"Would it be inappropriate to say that I really want to hit you?" Theia spoke lowly, meeting his eyes. She didn't mean to say it, but he grinned at her nonetheless.

"I'd love for you to fight with more than that damned mouth of yours," Nyx replied, leaning down slightly. Theia's gaze fell to his lips and for the first time since that first night in his house, another urge hit her. Too drunk to stop her own body from acting on her thoughts, her fists tightened on his shirt and tugged him down.

Nyx's mouth met hers with just as much ferocity and Theia groaned into his mouth. Punching him was her desire, but this was just as satisfactory. She didn't know how to kiss properly, but Nyx led her through it. His breath was hot against her tongue, his teeth biting down on her lip hard. He shoved her back and Theia's back hit the bed. He climbed over her, and swallowed her laugh when his knee missed the mattress and he nearly fell.

His hand gripped her waist hard enough that Theia pulled away with a gasp, but he didn't let up. His mouth went to her throat, teeth scraping the skin. "Too many fucking skirts," he snarled against her pulse when his free hand pulled up the bottom of her gown.

The situation was entirely foreign to her, but still Theia lifted her hips and urged her legs to be free of the fabric. Her heart was pounding and her body felt too hot. When his fingers danced against her bare thigh, Theia let out a shuddering moan. He was experienced, and she knew he'd be able to please her well. His hot tongue dipped to the swell of her breast as he slid his hand to the fabric covering her core.

Theia ground out a whine when Nyx tugged the fabric down to her mid thigh, giving him access to her bare heat. She felt the presence of his hand, knew that she was seconds away from something wonderful, and then he lifted his head.

Theia opened her eyes to meet his own wide ones, his wet lips parted. "What?" She snapped, bucking her hips again. He swallowed harshly, glancing down at his hand beneath her skirt. With a sharp inhale, he shoved away from her and stumbled back, nearly tripping over himself. Theia sat up, glaring at him.

"That can't happen," he panted. Theia watched his hand as he brushed at his jaw, looking entirely bewildered at the moments before.

"Mm, didn't realize your disgust for me ran that deep." Her words were simple and short, and Theia shot him a quick glare before flopping onto her back again. She'd entertain herself then. She waited for the uneven steps of the drunken male, and then the door closing, and smiled to herself as she pulled her skirt up.